Photography is backward by nature, picturing the past in the dizzying present.1 The pictures presented in “Raw Cuts” (2024) taken some 25 years ago are no different, images taken with Ektachrome infrared-sensitive film (EIR) which as a material no longer exists. Infrared sits somewhere in the middle of the electromagnetic spectrum, with a wavelength longer than light and invisible to the naked eye. Looking back at it these ‘false’ colour images recalls the strange year at the end of the 1990s when I lived in North London above a meat shop and its backyard littered with old meat bones ripped apart by hungry dogs.2
